Canned Luncheon Meat

Izuna took another long, leisurely stroll around the clan grounds.

He visited several of the key shops run by the Uchiha and chatted with their proprietors about recent business and supplies.

He checked on the maintenance of several public facilities.

He "ran into" a few clan elders and respectfully asked for their views on clan affairs. Though their expressions were a little stiff, they answered honestly.

Izuna was somewhat puzzled. He had gone out prepared to have his identity questioned today, but aside from those few at the training ground, he had not encountered anything of the sort.

Had Madara done something?

Well, this was better. It saved him the trouble of having to convince anyone.

The sooner he got a grasp of the Uchiha Clan's situation, the sooner he could help Madara.

He took out a writing brush and recorded everything he had learned on a scroll he carried with him.

Once he had confirmed that he had learned everything he wanted to know, he headed home, thoroughly satisfied.

"I'm home!" Izuna took off his shoes and walked into the room with a spring in his step.

Madara was sitting beside the low table in the living room, a scroll in his hands. At the sound of his voice, he looked up and smiled gently at him. "Welcome back."

Lunch was a simple meal of rice, miso soup, pan-fried fish, and blanched greens.

The two sat facing each other and ate a few bites in silence. Then Izuna swallowed his food and spoke up eagerly:

"Brother, let me tell you, I went over to the training ground this morning."

Madara's chopsticks paused briefly as he looked up at him.

"And then," Izuna narrowed his eyes, his tone disdainful, "I sparred with the kids in the clan."

"The result... was so disappointing. Their reactions were slow, their coordination was poor, their timing with Ninjutsu was terrible, and their Taijutsu had more holes than a sieve.

"The adults were a little better and worked together pretty well, but they weren't that great either. Don't they know they can't let their guard down until they've seen that the enemy is completely incapacitated? Once I broke through their wire formation, I knocked them all flying with ease.

"Brother, do you think they really survived the Warring States era? Why do I feel like they've gotten worse? Now that we have Konoha, shouldn't they train even harder to protect their home?

"I really don't know what they're thinking."

Madara listened in silence, his face largely expressionless. He merely murmured, "Mm," and continued eating, offering no opinion on Izuna's assessment.

But his gaze was gentle, and there was a smile on his lips, as if he were saying, You're right about everything.

Standing outside the door, just about to raise his hand and knock, Tobirama Senju caught every last word Izuna said.

Tobirama Senju: "..."

Even with his calm, composed temperament, he could not stop his temple from twitching at those words.

Too weak? Gotten worse?

He had fought those old fellows like Uchiha Kenjirō on the battlefield.

They were seasoned and ruthless, and their Sharingan genjutsu and Shurikenjutsu made them extremely difficult opponents.

Even he would have to put in some effort against any one of them.

Yet in this man's telling, they had "more holes than a sieve"?

Was this guy... completely ignorant of his own limits, or was he truly strong beyond belief?

Tobirama raised his hand, expressionless, and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe three times, neither too hard nor too softly.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The room fell silent in an instant.

The next second, Madara's bone-chilling aura, brimming with warning and killing intent, pierced through the thin sliding door like solid icicles and pinned Tobirama in place.

Tobirama acted as though he had noticed nothing. His voice was calm and even. "Sorry to disturb you. Tobirama Senju, here for a visit."

The sliding door was yanked open, revealing Madara in the doorway. His tall frame blocked most of the light, casting a shadow over Tobirama.

His face was dark as thunder. Though his Sharingan was not active, his gaze alone was enough to make an ordinary person's legs go weak.

"Tobirama Senju," Madara said in a low, restrained voice, "what are you doing here?"

"I have business." Tobirama kept it brief. Looking past Madara's shoulder, he saw Izuna holding a rice bowl and peering curiously toward the door. "Regarding... an 'after-sales' issue."

Madara's gaze grew colder.

Just then, Izuna's voice rang out, tinged with surprise and familiarity. "Huh? Tobirama? What brings you here? Come in, come in! Have you eaten? Join us!"

His tone was so natural that it was as if the visitor were not his mortal enemy, Tobirama Senju, but an old acquaintance from next door dropping by.

Madara: "..."

Tobirama: "..."

Madara took a deep breath and stepped aside, though the warning in his eyes did not diminish in the slightest.

Tobirama's expression remained unchanged as he took off his shoes and entered the living room.

He glanced at the simple meal on the table, then at Izuna. When he spoke, his tone was flat, but he picked up where Izuna had left off:

"Uchiha Kenjirō, Uchiha Takashi, Uchiha Shin-suke... the people you 'sparred' with at the training ground today are all rated as elite Jonin in Konoha's combat assessments. Uchiha Takashi specializes in combining Fire Style with Shuriken, while Uchiha Shin-suke's Lightning Release is a tremendous threat in surprise attacks. The people you call 'weak' are among Konoha's top combatants."

He paused, his red eyes fixed on Izuna. "And according to witnesses, you avoided at least three lethal sneak attacks from your blind spots and overcame their combined Ninjutsu head-on. That kind of reaction and ability to respond are beyond the scope of conventional understanding. Rather than call them a 'sieve,' it would be more accurate to say that you..."

Tobirama seemed to weigh his words before finally offering a relatively objective assessment. "...are a little too abnormal."

Izuna blinked, seemingly unimpressed by the title "elite Jonin," though Tobirama's last remark amused him. "Really? Maybe I was just lucky? Calling me abnormal is a bit much."

Madara's face darkened, but with Izuna there, he held his temper.

"All right, don't just stand there. Sit down." Izuna beckoned him over warmly, as if he had not noticed the silent contest between the two men. "Your timing is perfect. I was just thinking of looking for you!"

He put down his bowl and pointed to his left eye, looking a little troubled. "This stupid eye has fallen out several more times these past few days! And after I put it back in, everything I see through it is always a little... well, blurry, like I'm looking through frosted glass. Didn't you say last time that you were still improving it? When exactly will it be ready? This 'Prototype' is way too unreliable!"

He complained without the slightest hesitation, as if the second-in-command of the Senju Clan really were his personal doctor. His familiarity left Tobirama a little unsettled.

Tobirama's gaze fell on Izuna's left eye.

It looked no different from his right, moving freely, its iris pitch-black.

But on closer inspection, Izuna seemed to rely more on his right eye to focus. His left moved less than his right and seemed somewhat passive.

"I'll need to examine it before I can determine the specifics," Tobirama replied in a businesslike manner, swiftly analyzing the information in Izuna's words.

Frequent dislodging? Blurred vision? Those do sound like problems an unstable experimental product might have. But... had he really "cultivated" it?

"True, you're the expert." Izuna accepted the answer readily, picked up his bowl again, and shoveled in a mouthful of rice. He spoke indistinctly. "Then hurry up and eat. You can take a look when you're done. This stupid eye is driving me crazy. It's basically been useless these past few days, so I've had to rely entirely on my right eye to see. Good thing I got used to it a long time ago..."

Before he could finish, he stopped himself.

Madara's grip on his chopsticks suddenly tightened, his knuckles turning white.

Tobirama looked up, a sharp glint flashing in his red eyes.

The air in the living room seemed to freeze in an instant.

Izuna belatedly realized what he had said. The smile froze on his face, and a flicker of panic flashed through his eyes.

"No! Wait! I mean..." He hurriedly tried to salvage the situation, his words coming out in a jumble. "I mean, even if my left eye isn't working very well for now, I can manage! I used to... uh, I mean, I'm good at adapting! Right! I adapt quickly!"

The more he explained, the worse it sounded.

Madara slowly set down his bowl and chopsticks, the bottom of the bowl making a faint clack against the table.

He raised his head and looked at Izuna. In those ever-unfathomable eyes, emotions now churned like a raging storm.

"Izuna." Madara's voice was soft, heavy with the threat of an approaching storm. "You just said... you 'got used to it a long time ago'?"

Izuna's gaze wandered. "Uh."

"Used to what?" Madara asked word by word, his gaze fixed intently on Izuna's eyes. "Used to... life without your left eye?"

Izuna's scalp went numb, and his heart pounded. I'm done for, I'm done for! I let it slip! How did I end up bringing up what I got used to living with one eye in the modern era?

"No! Brother, let me explain!" Izuna was so anxious he nearly stood up. "That's not what I meant! I meant... I meant..."

He looked to Tobirama beside him for help, hoping he could cover for him.

Tobirama Senju, however, simply sat there with his hands on his knees, watching him with calm, unruffled red eyes, like an uninvolved observer.

His gaze plainly said, Oh? Keep making things up. I'm listening.

Izuna: "..."

Madara did not press him any further. He simply stood, walked over to Izuna, and looked down at him.

His gaze was so heavy that Izuna could hardly breathe.

"Your eye," Madara said in a low, hoarse voice. "What exactly happened to it?"

"Tobirama." Madara did not turn around, but the chill in his voice could almost freeze the air. "Examine him. Now."

It was not a request, but an order.

Tobirama did not take issue with Madara's tone, however. He rose unhurriedly and took from the ninja tool pouch he carried a small, complicated-looking Chakra detection device containing formalin, along with a monocle fitted with a special lens.

"Then," Tobirama said, putting on the monocle, his red eye looking even more inscrutable behind the lens, "Izuna, please cooperate. We need to find out exactly what went wrong with the 'Prototype.'"

He deliberately emphasized the word "Prototype."

Izuna looked at the expressionless research expert before him, then at his older brother beside him, who was radiating a gloomy aura, his gaze pained and stern. Izuna felt like crying, but had no tears.

I'm doomed! Even jumping into the Yellow River won't wash this one clean!